The Fault in Our Stars: Oranjee Menu

The waiter arrived with two more glasses of champagne and what he called “Belgian white asparagus with a lavender infusion.” “I’ve never had champagne either,” Gus said after he left. “In case you were wondering or whatever. Also, I’ve never had white asparagus.”
I was chewing my first bite. “It’s amazing,” I promised.
He took a bite, swallowed. “God. If asparagus tasted like that all the time, I’d be a vegetarian, too.”

It’s been an incredibly busy week and I’m so happy to finally have time to sit down and share this meal with you guys! This meal is inspired by The Fault in our Stars by John Green. Although we only see the dragon carrot risotto in the movie, the book gives us much more detail on the meal Hazel and Gus had at Oranjee in Amsterdam. I’ll be posting the recipes throughout the week put I have a video up so you can see what’s coming up. Special thanks to my dad to was available to help me with this dinner. Please enjoy!

Also, a huge thank you to Jeunelle Robinson for suggesting The Fault in our Stars! Find her on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.

The food was so good that with each passing course, our conversation devolved further into fragmented celebrations of its deliciousness: “I want this dragon carrot risotto to become a person so I can take it to Las Vegas and marry it.” “Sweet-pea sorbet, you are so unexpectedly magnificent.” I wish I’d been hungrier.

After green garlic gnocchi with red mustard leaves, the waiter said, “Dessert next. More stars first?” I shook my head. Two glasses was enough for me. Champagne was no exception to my high tolerance for depressants and pain relievers; I felt warm but not intoxicated. But I didn’t want to get drunk. Nights like this one didn’t come along often, and I wanted to remember it.

The Fault in our Stars: Oranjee Menu

We were both really full, but dessert—a succulently rich crémeux surrounded by passion fruit—was too good not to at least nibble, so we lingered for a while over dessert, trying to get hungry again. The sun was a toddler insistently refusing to go to bed: It was past eight thirty and still light.